"lolled" poems
This misty grey day
Looked back at me
and smiled at the sight
See my reddened brown eyes
Joy in my head
As my neck suffered another
crashed out night
On my pillow made of lead
Toss to the turn as the sleep monster says
"no sleep for you boy awaken the dead"
Awaken the dead ? I thought
As my head lolled around
Thoughts of another night
Lost to no sound
Aches to my bones as I shudder the sleep
Fall at my side
Fall as a heap
Sleep please forgive me as I bid you farewell
Another day started
My living
My hell
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 4:16 AM UTC
First, I spotted the gaggle sagging innocently enough,
One might say blissfully reflected in the laptop screen.
Then out of nowhere came the phrase, "whodunit?”
And from the hanging sag, a sly, silky, voice whispered,
"Ahhh, don't stop before the good part."
Clearly a few clues were left behind, wispy hair strands,
Scattered age spots, skin tags, a few moles, posed upon a
Pale listless, crinkly, lightly pimpled, surface, and from a
Wrinkly, shallow crevasse a voice teased,
"Ahhh, don't stop before the good part."
Totally hooked, curiosity piqued, southward I spied,
A once upon a time perky, treasure chest, half hidden,
Now two solemn, empty grain sacks laid east to west,
And close to death but not quite, lazily they muttered,
"Ahhh, don't stop before the good part."
The final chapter, an ancient, untold mystery solved,
No crime, no villain, nothing stolen, only flesh alchemy,
Where a plateau of supple, touchable, skin once resided,
A lumpy, bumpy, flabby flesh pillow lolled, and it murmured,
“Ahhh, Boston cream pie, a quick nap, that's the ticket."
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary
Of lofty contemplation left to Time
By buried centuries of pomp and power!
At length—at length—after so many days
Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst,
(Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,)
I kneel, an altered and an humble man,
Amid thy shadows, and so drink within
My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory!
Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld!
Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night!
I feel ye now—I feel ye in your strength—
O spells more sure than e’er Judaean king
Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane!
O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee
Ever drew down from out the quiet stars!
Here, where a hero fell, a column falls!
Here, where the mimic eagle glared in gold,
A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat!
Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded hair
Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle!
Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled,
Glides, spectre-like, unto his marble home,
Lit by the wan light of the horned moon,
The swift and silent lizard of the stones!
But stay! these walls—these ivy-clad arcades—
These mouldering plinths—these sad and blackened shafts—
These vague entablatures—this crumbling frieze—
These shattered cornices—this wreck—this ruin—
These stones—alas! these gray stones—are they all—
All of the famed, and the colossal left
By the corrosive Hours to Fate and me?
“Not all”—the Echoes answer me—”not all!
Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever
From us, and from all Ruin, unto the wise,
As melody from Memnon to the Sun.
We rule the hearts of mightiest men—we rule
With a despotic sway all giant minds.
We are not impotent—we pallid stones.
Not all our power is gone—not all our fame—
Not all the magic of our high renown—
Not all the wonder that encircles us—
Not all the mysteries that in us lie—
Not all the memories that hang upon
And cling around about us as a garment,
Clothing us in a robe of more than glory.”
2.5k
I lived through it,
The up and down times
When I sold ***
And did other petty crimes.
I was there when
Hot girls were really guys
Hiding floppy secrets
Between their nyloned thighs.
I loved through it,
Saturdays that started
On Tuesday morning
When I first departed;
Two packs of cigs
And a week’s doobies,
By then a value
Almost that of rubies.
I laughed through it,
A **** ***** your jokes
Were so funny if
You were providing smokes.
I flattered and flirted
Whatever it would finally take
To score a bit of ****
Even the skimpiest shake.
I lolled through it,
Lying buck naked in your bed
Or with your guests
Whatever you originally said
Because you scored,
You were the source of dope.
Without your patronage
I didn’t have a moment of hope.
I hitchhiked through it,
Long trips back from Malibu
When I had worn out
My welcome to the world of you.
I hope the ride might be
Another adventure; more ****
Or some food and drink
To satisfy my every begging need.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 5:51 PM UTC
Dusting off the dirt
from my shoes well worn.
They've travelled far
and had tasted all manners
of earth.
Soles now parched,
and leather all beaten.
Eyes laced close,
scuffs and tears
crying for a mend.
Tongue lolled limp,
dislocated and misplaced.
These shoes,
they beg for a life
much different.
But these feet
knows and wants
the only ones
that fit.
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 6:25 AM UTC
I'm downright parchy when you're icy
Slammin' wet when you're dulcet
So glum...lolled...you're nowhere onboard
Alacrity is farced as simpers scarce
Prolix spells ahead as your radiance effaced
Stunning silence!
Shan't be scraggy better be scoutty
Lame ruse meeds its match...
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 3:07 PM UTC
His fingers brushed the path of her arm
From wrist to elbow to shoulder
Gradually resting at the nape of her neck
Her head lolled back
Resting its weight in his offered cupped palm
Her breath reduced to a sigh
She briefly closed her eyes
Before pulling away from his touch
And hurriedly walked off in her own direction
No words were said, no declaration,
but his outstretched hand
Spoke volumes
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
tectonic shoulder blades, rising and falling, sensuous rubbing
the beyond the smooth skin,
clasps of lips and hands alike, natural
window, lit by the dark-indigo-crevasses of stars peering through
and makes like the sun and moon-- chiaroscuro
entwined upon unbuttoned sheets perhaps this
can save the daylight's dragging through
promises to follow skin's pathways into their depths
into where only stars light up through the nadir
experiencing flight, exquisite libido, orgiastic now lolled
where one goes, the other follows
two hearts, bodies, one soul
unfolds the lifetime exploring as a heaven
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
And as the large man turned
the corner
tilted
lolled and
then capsized,
bobbing around Foyle street
As a turtle on its back
I wondered how his family felt
And how bad
he must have smelt.
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 11:31 AM UTC
Lolled into slumber
The leather of my headphones hug my tired ears
My eyes can't focus anymore
I hear notes and words and melodies
Lolled into slumber
I know that I'll finally be at peace
Alone
Finally away from everything I hate
And everything I love
Lolled into slumber
I'm thankful
Thankful that I made it through
Lolled into slumber
I wonder what I'll dream of
Sometimes I pray that I'll dream of the perfect future
Other times I pray that I'll dream of the man I once loved
Lolled into slumber
I don't want to sleep
Because with sleep comes the commitment to wake up
And I don't want to commit to that
Because REM is so much better than whatever comes my way
Lolled into slumber
I can't control anything
And I need to control things
Lolled into slumber
But I turn the lights on and go berserk
I start reading and researching and cutting and pasting and eating and not eating and it's a mess
Lolled into slumber
I stare at the screen of my phone
Hopeful that I'll receive a text that will change something
Lolled into slumber
I have no choice but to fall asleep
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
luna lolled a tongue of light through the cottony
bifurcation of fluttering draperies
licking her window with shimmering
spittle
refracted by the pallid idea of her flesh
she seemed a glowing angel of bone
wreathed in this incandescence
i took her sharp words and sewed
her love in the fabric of my being
oh god how i love her virginal
vessel
please won't you give me that gift
let me make your clean all grimy
with my ***** fingers
alas how can such an ugly thing as this me
ever lay in the proximity of a her so achingly right?
i am a nothing and she an everything
please don't leave my sheets this morning
i want to sing your song
bending my tongue about its fragile melody
in the distance a chime murmurs
May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 3:42 PM UTC
Imagine a young fervent swarthy portrayal,
caramel strong un-clad lady,
yet at touch so “douce” and glued
whilst leaning out
from a window
slender rainy on a balcony too urban
pane
And eyes at digital art
Spin a confession
Of how the watered petals of flowers there
do not explain
The origin or calling of the rain
And that its every end or beginning
In her unbetrayal made swayed
Has actually
since always
there
been taking
its rightful place.
The world in that fact
does not have,
find
nor
make relay, sense.
Someone right on the other side’s
staircase stroll
Would extract their own core
by extending through their ribs own
her beloving so longing and old
that one at last will find it
possessing a too hurtful call.
Head lolled.
Dew owned.
Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 2:32 PM UTC
Colours were flattened beneath
a dull stretch of graphite sky.
Its cloak dampened the dimension
of nature's vibrancy,
trapping an uncomfortable
heavy warmth void of wind's sigh.
Birds couldn't manage a chirp
nor dogs a bark.
Weighted limbs sprawled
from lifeless bodies
drained of energy.
Lazy eyes lolled
in attempts to peruse
a tree's limp leaves
in hope of movement
urging them
for a sign of relief.
Those eyes soon retreated
to drift and dream
behind weary lids
which sank
as silently as the absent sun.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
' I woke.
I slept.
I dreamt of nothing.
Stars littered the sky as I rose.
The moon poised it’s deep, sorrow face.
Over the valleys a hungry wolf howled melancholy with the sad moon.
“Why are we so alone, in a world of encumberance?” The wolf asked of the moon.
The moon just wallowed, and did not speak, the moon never did.
The wolf languished near the stream, cautiously perking up at the sounds coming from the dark wood behind.
Hope was far from the wolf’s weighted mind. His life had been filled with loneliness. Raised from birth by the Earth alone, none other called him as their own. He hunted alone, he ate alone, he slept alone, and he was doomed to die alone as all others.
Deep in the dark wood, a pack of ferocity lingered in the shadows, prowling on the lone wolf.
The black horror claimed this land as his own, and he allowed no trespassers. His pack was equally relentless, and they would spill the blood of all who opposed this challenge.
The wolf continued to howl, prickles of black fur sprang up on his neck as the scent of a foe approached.
The pack moved in on him, six snarling snouts, and twelve yellow eyes gleamed at him.
They were hungry.
We’re all hungry.
We’re all starving.
The moon watched unflinchingly, as the water ran red past the bellowing frogs, chirping crickets, the oaks branches that sunk low into the river, casting swaying shadows from the heavy moon.
He watched with his same sad face, how can anything constantly watching us ever have another emotion? The wolf lay, mangled and torn. The others attacked him in a contempt savagery, hunger tearing at their shallow bellies.
Spasms of fleeting feeling went through the wolf, the whites and greys of his once illecebrous and divine fur, now soaked with his own blood. His tongue lolled out of his snout, and his teeth were all shattered.
He hadn’t put up a fight.
The pack shredded him. The black wolf treated all outside wolves as threats. He had no interest of letting a stray wolf get into his pack and challenge his authority. So he killed, before he was challenged. It seemed ideal to him, and his pack was fed joyously. They licked their chops, grinned like a hyena, and barked laughter all at another, while the great black wolf, looked to the moon, and howled heinously in it’s direction.
The dark moon watches from above
So sad at what he must see
The good sun wished with him
To disperse light over the seas
They wept and cried
laughed; and died
The light was put in place
Dark doesn’t surrender to grace
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 2:44 PM UTC
Every time I’ve spoken to You,
You’ve never spoken back;
Have I upset You, or
Is it something that I lack?
.
I can’t seem to get through
To You, are bruised knees not
Enough? Head lolled in prayer
I’m completely lost in thought.
.
Are two mothers too taboo
For You to answer what I ask,
Or are You just some drunkard
Taking swigs from a hip flask?
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
Mother Nature knew I needed a car wash.
She gave me a car wash.
Her rains cleared the film of pollen and dust from my eyes and the pitter patter of Her rain on my roof lolled me to sleep.
It's been
two weeks and I'm still sober.
Two weeks of unwilling sleep,
yet two weeks of waking up not wishing to sleep more.
This is a battle I've fought before,
a battle I know I can win,
a battle I know I can lose.
But it's been two weeks
and She rewards me with rain.
I walked the bases loaded but Mother Nature, my pitching coach, visited the mound and told me to have fun, this is baseball remember?
The bases are still loaded and still there are no outs, but I've got two strikes on this batter and my catcher can block my curve in the dirt.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 10:34 PM UTC
on the weekend, we will go to a play.
some will bring their children.
the play will change many lives.
at intermission, I will want to leave.
you will lead the hand of the man
sitting next to you
to my ankle. he will use
the weight of his chin, the lullaby
of his baby lolled head.
I will not be able to hold
the brief kiss of my knees.
to see his hand
you will lift my skirt
from behind. I will ask
that you
be furious.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 3:39 PM UTC
as the apple falls from the tree
and hits the ground,
with a dull thud
her head hit the ground
and lolled to the side and i could see
the bruises on her somber little face,
what impressionable youth,
what delicate youth we carry on our branches
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 2:55 PM UTC
Walking along the side of the mighty sea,
In the shady overhang of the cliffs that ever hem it in,
I came upon a pool of black blood,
Which spread infinitely far out into the water,
And touched the sun low at the horizon there.
Looking up, my eyes found a crucified man,
Upon whose shoulder perched a fearsome eagle,
Its beak stained with brown and black crusted blood.
His torso was cratered, nearly hollowed out,
Bleeding as hard as a fresh wound.
His head lolled, and sweat beaded on his pale brow,
But when I went to loosen the chains that held him there,
His eyes snapped open, and he said to me,
"You will find if you go out of your way to help
In matters like these
That you will be worse off for it."
He closed his eyes again, and waved his chained hand at me to go.
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
Those were the days,
When spring time was everyday,
When every morning was the smell of fresh cut flowers and dew,
When clouds lolled lazy in your eyes
And song birds burst forth like laughter in the sky.
Then you'd called me Peaches,
Or sometimes Peaches and Cream,
And though you used the term sparingly
I could hear the gold in your voice,
Or see the pink in your cheeks,
Back in those pink days.
It was yours, all yours,
And no one else's.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 5:02 AM UTC
Heavily addicted rainstorm/
In the midst of coffee spilt tears/
Blue curtin ramblings/
In a headmasters grave/
Lolled eyes that leer/
Uncomfortably built from a clean slate/
And only avoided to hide behind/
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 8:46 PM UTC